


Performance Review

by MACRA



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen, Humor, Mad Science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 19:38:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MACRA/pseuds/MACRA
Summary: Moira O'Deorain has a chance to learn what her peers think of her. If only she was better at listening...





	Performance Review

"You wanted to see me, Commander Morrison?"

Jack took a deep breath and did his best to muster a pleasant smile. "Yes, Dr. O'Deorain. Thank you for coming."

Moira O'Deorain walked into Jack's office and sat down opposite him without waiting for his invitation. She leaned back and stretched her long legs out in front of her. "Oh, please. Just call me Moira. Academic titles are so stuffy, don't you think Jack? You don't mind if I call you Jack, do you?" Before he could answer, she went on, "Well, this is very pleasant. What can I do for you, Jack?"

"Well… Moira, I've been receiving a number of comments about you from your colleagues in the science division."

Moira's broad smile grew even broader. "I always look forward to the give and take of peer review."

Jack cleared his throat. "They do raise some concerns." He scrolled along his tablet, vaguely wishing he'd printed hard copy. Shuffling papers was such a good delaying tactic. "It may give you an idea to know that the most positive comment describes you as 'Brilliant but unsound.'"

Moira sat up straight. "That one was from Angela, wasn't it?"

"All comments are delivered in confidence. I'm afraid I can't…"

She leaned forward and gave him a wink. "Oh, don't worry. I won't embarrass her. But I have noticed, she can be a bit of a fangirl sometimes."

There were too many things wrong with that response to list. But the thing that brought Jack's brain stuttering to a halt, robbing him temporarily of speech, was attempting to fit "Angela Ziegler" and "fangirl" into the same conceptual space. Recovering, he said, "I think you're misunderstanding the point of that comment. I'm afraid that a number of concerns about safety and ethics have been raised."

Moira leaned back again with an airy wave of her hand. "Oh, you don't need to apologize about that. Science needs the conservatives, the cautious ones, as much as it needs the visionaries. It's all part of the balance. They're just doing their jobs as they see them."

Jack set his tablet down with a little more force than he intended. He seemed unable to get through to the woman. "You've been experimenting with killer bees as a delivery mechanism for medical biotics."

For the first time in the conversation, Moira frowned. "Properly, they should be referred to as 'Africanized honey bees' or if you must be colloquial, 'bravo bees,'" she said in a pained tone of voice. "The term 'killer bees' is the product of the sensationalist press of the Twentieth Century."

"They still sting," Jack said.

"Well, of course. They wouldn't be much good as a delivery system if they didn't sting." She leaned forward, an excited look on her face. "You see, the bravo bee has many advantages for this use over regular honey bees. Their natural swarming behavior is much easier to adapt to the purpose. And unlike some species, a single bee is capable of using its sting repeatedly without dying."

"I'm not concerned with the safety of the bees," Jack said.

Moira wagged a finger at him "You should. Bees are a crucial part of the ecosystem. Colony collapse is not the problem it was sixty years ago, but it is still a very real concern. It would be irresponsible to contribute to the depopulation problem in the pursuit of a military application, even one that's intended to save lives."

Jack put his face in his hands as he searched for words that would get through to her. "Why use bees at all? They still sting and it still hurts."

"Yes, I'm still working on that. Also, I haven't found a good way for them to target only friendly troops. Although against Omnics, that wouldn't be an issue. Anyway, I'm making good progress."

"You test them on people! Without warning, I might add. Some of my troops are afraid to enter the science building now."

"Yes, well I wasn't going to mention that. But since you bring it up, I do think that sort of Ludditism is out of place in a modern elite military organization. And if I may speak frankly, Jack, Overwatch's leadership should be setting a better example."

Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Dr. O'Deorain, in light of the concerns raised by your colleagues about your work, and in light your sheer inability to comprehend that no one but you thinks that  _anything_  you are doing is a good idea, I have no choice but to terminate your contract with Overwatch."

There was a long pause. Moira looked at Jack with narrowed eyes. "This is about my request for increased funding, isn't it?"

* * *

Angela was walking to her lab when she noticed that Moira's door was open. She paused her steps and swallowed nervously. It was fine; she could do this. She called up a random document on her handheld and pretended to be engrossed in it as she started walking again. Head down, focused on her "research." That was the ticket.

There was a crash from inside Moira's lab. "Go, my little friends! Be free!" Moira's voice echoed down the hallway. Angela froze, expecting to hear the sound of buzzing at any moment. To her relief, the only thing that happened was that a large white rabbit hopped through the door from Moira's lab. It stopped in the hallway and sat twitching its nose.

 _Maybe I should just head back the way I came_ , thought Angela.

Too late. Moira stepped out of her lab, cradling another rabbit in her arms. "Ah, Angela," she said.

"Oh, hello Moira," Angela said as brightly as possible. She mustered up a smile.

Moira had an unusually somber look on her face as she approached. "Angela, I have devastating news." She laid a hand on Angela's shoulder. "I have to leave Overwatch."

 _Oh, thank God_. "Oh no! Moira, why?"

Moira shrugged. "Morrison's kicking me out. He gave some cock and bull excuse about 'ethical concerns,' but he can't fool me. He's worried about his precious budget. The man has the soul of an accountant."

Angela nodded sympathetically but avoided any verbal agreement that might come back to haunt her. "What will you do?" she asked.

"Oh, don't worry about me," Moira said. "I always land on my feet." The hand on Angela's shoulder gave her a squeeze. "It's you I worry about?"

Angela blinked. "Me?"

"Oh, Angela. You have the potential for greatness in you. You remind me of myself at your age." Angela blanched internally at this notion. "Angela, you must hold on to your greatness." Moira thrust the rabbit into Angela's hands. She wondered briefly if it was meant to symbolize the greatness she was supposed to hold on to. Or possibly Moira just needed both hands free to gesture dramatically. She placed one arm over Angela's shoulder and made a sweeping motion with the other. "Science, Angela! Science will reveal the truth. But it needs people like us to move forward. To make the future.

"But you're vulnerable," Moira continued. "Naïve. If you're not careful, you'll fall victim to the Nervous Nellies. The ones who casually throw out words like 'irresponsible' or 'deranged' when faced with something new. I've tried to watch out for you, but now I won't be there for you." She stood facing Angela, placing her hands on Angela's shoulders and giving her a little shake. "Promise me, you'll stay constant. Don't let the Morrisons of this world get in your way."

It was really quite touching, and Angela felt a little guilty for feeling relieved at the news that Moira would be leaving. Except of course for the fact that whatever form Moira's hopes for Angela's future greatness might take was something that didn't bear thinking about. "I promise."

Moira gave a sigh of relief and retrieved her rabbit. "One more thing. Look after my bees for me."

"I…"

Moira nodded gravely. "I know. You don't need to say it. I feel the same. Farewell, Angela."

Angela watched Moira leave. The older scientist paused at the stairwell, turned, and gave Angela an elaborate bow. Angela waved back nervously. Then Moira was gone. Angela turned, shaking her head and almost ran smack into Gabriel Reyes.

Reyes was looking in the direction of Moira's departure with a furrowed brow. "What was that all about?"

"Oh. Moira has been asked to leave Overwatch." Reyes looked at her blankly. She recalled that he didn't often visit the science building when he was visiting the Watchpoint. It was possible he didn't actually know who Moira was. "Moira O'Deorain," she clarified.

He nodded. "She's some hotshot geneticist, right? What was the problem?"

 _Where to begin_ , Angela thought. But really, it wasn't seemly to speak ill of the woman when she was on her way out. "She's a bit… unconventional," she temporized.

Reyes snorted. "Morrison slung her out because she doesn't color inside the lines, huh? Figures. Thanks, Doc." He started off toward the stairs.

Angela briefly considered giving him a bit more of an explicit warning. But really, what was the point. He was probably just leaving the building anyway. And even if he was planning to follow Moira and speak to her, he probably just wanted to lend a sympathetic ear to someone who also had a problem with Commander Morrison. After all, what possible use could Blackwatch have for a geneticist?

* * *

_Blackwatch headquarters, several months later:_

"O'Deorain! What did you do to me?"

"I'm so glad you asked me that question; it's really quite interesting. You know, Gabriel, it's much more pleasant working for you than Morrison. That man had absolutely no scientific curiosity."


End file.
